CHAPTER 17 LINCOLN

"Jesus," I murmur. "That was…" I pause as I try to settle on a word, and I can't really seem to land on the right one. "Unexpected."

Her lids are heavy, and I lean down and press a soft kiss to her mouth—a contrast to the way I just fucked her, but I do think I might've been successful in my endeavor to fuck any other man's name right out of her brain.

As much as she just fucked any other woman's name from mine.

"I was expecting it," she murmurs. Her cheeks are flushed and she closes her eyes as a slight smile plays on her lips.

I chuckle as I climb off her and off the bed to grab a washcloth from the bathroom, and I clean the mess I made on her stomach. I wasn't planning to jerk it on top of her, but she slid onto my cock before I had a chance to grab a condom.

Not that I'm complaining.

I just…I've never done it without one.

Ever.

The thought of just breaking past the forbidden territory into actually kissing her was one thing. Sex was another. Sex with no condom?

It was something else. It opened up a whole new world.

But…what if I knocked her up?

It's out of the question, and I don't need to consider all the reasons why.

We didn't exactly have the whole are you on birth control talk.

We didn't exactly have any talk other than the one where she told me she hated me and I told her she had to beg for it.

And despite that animosity between us, it was still intimate and sexy. I felt connected to her in a way I've never felt with anyone else.

It sure as fuck didn't feel like hatred.

But I'm also not sure it would be smart to categorize exactly what it did feel like.

"Are you hungry?" I ask after I toss the washcloth into the bathroom.

She nods. "I could eat."

We agree on pizza, and I place an order with the restaurant downstairs since they'll deliver it right to our room and I'm not exactly in the mood to head downstairs and grab it.

I pull on a pair of shorts and slide onto the bed beside her. I think about touching her. I think about pulling her into me.

But I'm not sure we're there despite what we just shared.

She finally forces herself out of bed, and she escapes to the bathroom for a minute without a word. When she returns, she pulls on a t-shirt.

A Giants shirt.

It's the team her dad played for—so I let it slide even though it's not a Vegas Aces shirt.

I only want to see her repping the team I coach.

But, as a small voice in the back of my brain reminds me…it's not my place to make that request.

Even if she is a team correspondent.

And then she slips onto the bed beside me wearing just a t-shirt. She leans on the headboard, and she links one of her legs over one of mine. I can nearly feel the heat of her bare pussy on my leg even though it's not actually anywhere close right now.

"Now what?" she asks.

I chuckle. "We wait for the pizza?"

"You wanted to talk, so talk."

I blow out a breath. "I'm not sure I have more to say." Or, at least, I'm not sure how to say it. My guard is back up. I'm anxious about how this conversation might go, so to that end, I stand and grab the bottle of whiskey that's sitting on the desk next to where I just had her perched a short while ago. Two glasses sit beside it, and I pour us each a few fingers of the liquid.

She thanks me as I hand her the glass, and I hold mine up.

"To the unexpected."

She offers a little smile as she taps her glass to mine, and we each take a healthy sip before she asks, "What affected you today?"

My brows pinch together as I try to figure that out. "You. Just having you there. I was nervous going into it, speaking in front of that huge crowd…but seeing you somehow centered me. And I wasn't sure how to feel about that. I mean, I've been conditioned to hate you for longer than I was able to love you."

Her fingertips move to my arm and trail down until she links her fingers through mine, her glass in her other hand. She takes a sip. "So how do we overcome that? Because I'm in the same boat, Linc. It's not like we'd ever be able to have a normal relationship."

I blow out a breath. "Fuck normal. We do whatever works for us."

"But what would that look like? It's not like you can take me to the next charity event. It's not like I can sit in the owner's box and watch you from up there. It's not like—"

I hold up my glass to stop her. "I know what it is and isn't like, okay? I know you're right. And I don't know how we navigate that. Maybe we're doomed from the start. Maybe we're only ever supposed to feel animosity toward each other. Maybe hate sex is all we can ever have." I shrug, and I drain the rest of the liquid and set the glass on the nightstand beside me.

"But maybe not. Maybe somewhere in the midst of all that, we could have it all."

I press my lips together, and that thought floats between us for a few beats. "Maybe," I eventually agree. "So, for now, we figure this out together in secret. We make a pact today that nobody knows."

"Nobody?" she asks.

"Nobody," I confirm, and then I pause a beat. "Wait. Your friend already knows, doesn't she?"

She guiltily sips her whiskey before she answers, and she sets her glass on the nightstand, too. "I may have called her earlier when you were out and told her about the chemistry between us, and I might have texted her when you were in the bathroom to let her know I sealed the deal."

I roll my eyes. "Jolene," I groan.

"That sounds a lot like how you said my name when you were inside me," she says, and then she slaps a hand over her mouth like she can't believe she just said that.

My jaw drops as I turn to look at her, and I can't help the gleam in my eye as I take the pillow I'm leaning on and hit her with it right in the stomach.

Her eyes widen. "Did you just…hit me with a pillow?"

I raise a shoulder as I arch a brow.

"Oh, it's on, Nash," she says, and quick as a flash, she grabs the pillow she's leaning on and she perches on her knees as she smacks me right in the chest with her pillow.

I make some sort of oof sound that makes her giggle, and I laugh, too, as I get her back near her hip.

Somehow it erupts into an epic pillow fight—not our first, naturally, but one where we're laughing as we let go of some of the aggression that spans between us. It ends as I wrestle her down, and I hover over her with my lips just inches from hers.

"I haven't had a pillow fight in twenty years," I murmur close to her mouth.

Her eyes are merry as they fall onto mine, and she leans up to catch my lips with hers for just a quick peck. "Neither have I."

I lower my mouth back to hers for a longer kiss, but it's interrupted by a knock at the door before it gets too far.

"Pizza must be here," I mutter. I'm hungry, but I think I'm hungrier to be back inside her than I am to eat actual food.

I can only hope that time comes again.

Sooner than later.